Keeping Watch
by The Wild Wild Whovian
Summary: A simple somber scene on the surface: three Victorian gentlemen standing vigil round the bed of a dying friend. But considering that the man gasping away his life is known to them as Dr John Smith - ah, this trio would do well to remember that old adage: Things are seldom what they seem.


A palpable gloom permeated the bedchamber, the very air dripping with dread expectation, as the comatose man upon the bed, grizzled of curls and of eyebrows, clung stubbornly to his ebbing life, each breath more laboured than the one before it.

'Poor Dr Smith,' said one of his three visitors. 'Such a pity it has to end this way.'

'Death must inevitably come for us all, as well you know, young Merchant,' said the second, a gimlet-eyed specimen known as Primm.

'Yes, but to die by violence, struck down in a filthy alley by some common robber!'

'Ah?' The third man now regarded Merchant. 'You saw this?'

Merchant nodded. 'Chased the miscreant away, I did!' And he brandished his walking stick.

'And you bore Dr Smith up here to his rooms?' said Primm.

'Yes. It wasn't far. The attack came just behind the building, close by the mews.'

'But a robber, you say?' put in the third man. 'Nothing was, er, stolen, I trust?'

'Not that I could tell,' said Merchant. 'His wallet was safely in his pocket. Stick pin still there in his tie, as you can see.'

'And he still has his fob watch,' added Primm. 'I can see the chain of it snaking cross his waistcoat.'

For a long moment all three stared silently at the unconscious man, watching his chest struggling to rise and fall, the red lining of his frock coat a discordant note of cheer in the somber room.

'Lovely watch, that,' the third man ventured at length, breaking the silence. 'Saw it the first day I met Dr Smith. He walked into my shop some three weeks ago - Dunberry's Antiquities, you know - with the most striking woman on his arm…'

'All nose and curls?' interjected Primm.

'Why - why, yes, I suppose one might describe her so.'

Primm gave a snort. 'I've seen her too, though not lately, thank goodness. Most appalling woman I've ever had the misfortune to meet!'

'Appalling?' Merchant inquired mildly. 'How so?'

'Just… just…' Primm shuddered. 'She struck me as a most dangerous woman, that's all! If I've seen the last of her, I am most glad - most glad indeed!'

'Oh well! If she _struck_ you, I'm sure you would in fact count her dangerous!' chuckled Merchant, and cast a wink toward Dunberry.

'Confound it, man!' thundered Primm. 'I didn't mean it that way, and you know it!' He stamped the end of his walking stick upon the floor crossly. 'I just meant that was the impression I got of her, that she was a dangerous woman.'

'Perhaps _she_ was the despicable robber who struck down our friend in the alley!' exclaimed Dunberry.

'What?' cried Merchant. 'Oh my, no, certainly not! I drove him off myself, remember? Mousy little fellow, he was, no taller than…'' Merchant frowned suddenly and turned toward Primm. 'Why, no taller than _you_ , come to think of it!'

Primm scowled. 'I don't like your humour, Merchant, not a bit of it. _I_ the robber who attacked Dr Smith? Why, no doubt next you'll be accusing our friend the shopkeeper here of doing the deed!' He nodded toward Dunberry, then drew back a step.

'Dunberry?' Merchant swept a glance over him as if really considering the possibility. 'I rather doubt it,' he said at length, 'what with him being neither the right size nor shape. Suppose he might have hired the chap who did it though…' he mused.

' _What?'_ Dunberry gaped. 'How dare you! How dare the both of you!' he fumed.

'Come to think of it,' Merchant went on as if the other hadn't spoken, 'there is that curious phrase _our friend_. Each of you has just used it, and in both cases to refer to someone of a rather short acquaintance, I think? You, for example, Dunberry; you speak of Dr Smith so,' and he nodded toward the poor man still struggling for breath upon the bed, 'yet from your own statement moments ago, you only met him some three weeks back.'

'So? And I myself introduced him to you _two_ weeks back. Do _you_ not regard him as a friend?'

'A most dear one,' Merchant sighed sadly, 'and one I am loath to lose.'

'Then that doctor you summoned had best show up soon,' said Primm darkly, regarded the patient. 'That is,' and he turned a scowl Merchant's way, 'you did send for a doctor, did you not?'

Merchant drew himself up to his full height. 'I assure you, my dear Primm, I fully expect my doctor to put in an appearance at any moment now!'

'Ah? Well, anything later than the next minute or two shall certainly be too late,' said Dunberry. 'Look!' He pointed with his walking stick at the bed, and the others swiveled to see what he had noticed: that the figure lying there was no longer gasping - no indeed, nor breathing!

'D-Doctor?' whispered Merchant, his face pale. 'Dr Smith?'

Primm strode to the bedside and lifted the silent figure's wrist to feel for a pulse. He frowned, then groped along the side of the man's neck as well before giving up with a lugubrious shake of his head. 'Ah. No, it's already too late. Poor fellow! He's gone.' Primm drew back from the bed, slipping his hand into the pocket of his frock coat - and as he did so, there was a slight flash of gold.

'What was that?' asked Merchant.

Primm stiffened. 'What do you mean? What was what?'

Now Dunberry gave a shout. 'The watch! The dead man's watch; it's missing! You… you _took_ it!'

'Oh, of all the deuced… I most certainly did not!' Primm growled. But even as he was speaking, Merchant closed the space between them in three quick strides, caught hold of the skirt of Primm's frock coat, and plunged a hand into its pocket.

Then his hand came out again bearing Dr Smith's fob watch, its long gold chain dangling.

'You _did_ steal it!' hissed Dunberry in a fury.

'Then you _were_ the robber I drove off!' exclaimed Merchant. 'You foul fiend!'

'So what if I was?' sneered Primm. 'That confounded meddler deserved it! And I, I deserve my prize!' He caught Merchant across the face with a vicious backhand and snatched away the watch. Merchant was tenacious, however, and for a brief moment there raged something of a battle royale.

At the end of which Primm lay in a crumpled heap upon the floor, felled by Merchant's walking stick, while in the victor's hand lay the spoils.

'Bravely fought, my lad!' beamed Dunberry proudly. 'And a stunning triumph. But let me see the watch now; that miscreant didn't do it any harm, I trust?' He held out his hand.

Merchant, breathing hard, shook his head. 'It's… it's Dr Smith's watch. I was going to put it back where it belongs, in his waistcoat pocket.'

'Oh yes, by all means, by all means,' Dunberry agreed. 'But first, do let me check it for damages.'

'Why?' Merchant persisted. 'Its owner is dead. _He_ won't care if Primm did it any harm, will he?'

'Ah. Well, good point, my boy, good point. Carry on then.'

Merchant nodded and turned to the bed to restore the watch to its place. A moment later, however, the young victor was himself measuring his length upon the floor, the same as Primm.

'Silly fellow,' said Dunberry, wiping off the head of his walking stick with his pocket handkerchief. 'As if a dead man needs to know the time!' Smiling, the last man standing took up the watch and crossed to the window to examine it in the daylight. 'Ah, exquisite!' he breathed. 'And completely undamaged: not a scratch, not a nick. Excellent! Oh, but such workmanship! I've never seen the like!' He ran a thumb over the curious designs engraved on its surface: wheels within wheels beside wheels overlapping wheels. Most curious designs indeed! They seemed almost to have meaning - yes, to speak to him!

Dunberry blinked and shook his head to clear it of such nonsense, then inspected the watch yet more closely. What sort of metal it might be made of had him baffled; like the designs, it was of a kind he'd never before seen. He only knew that, from the moment he'd first glimpsed the watch when Dr Smith had drawn it from his waistcoat pocket and twiddled it in his fingers, only to have that appalling woman slip it from his hand and replace it in the pocket unopened - ah, from that moment, Dunberry had coveted it.

And now it was his! Dunberry grinned. Primm, of all people, had also set his sights upon it, but _he_ had won out!

Did the watch work though? He couldn't recall any occasion upon which Dr Smith had actually consulted the watch to learn the time. No, he'd only held it in his hand, fiddled with it, gripping it as if it were some sort of talisman. _Did_ it work? Had he gone to all this effort for a broken watch?

Dunberry positioned his thumb over the latch, hesitated a moment, almost afraid to look - glanced wildly about suddenly, sure he'd heard a voice! - then with a convulsive twitch he clicked open the cover.

He coughed as a small cloud of sparkling dust blew forth from the watch's interior; where had _that_ come from? But no matter. He looked inside, happy to see the slender second hand ticking along in its discrete little jumps. Perfect - it was in perfect time, down to the second!

He chuckled. 'What a pretty penny you shall fetch me at the shop,' he purred to the watch. 'That is, should I decide to ever sell you.'

'I'll take that now!' said a voice, and not one that Dunberry had ever expected to hear again! He whirled as a hand closed over the watch and wrenched it from his grasp. 'You!' Dunberry squeaked. 'But… but he said you were dead!'

'Appearances can be deceiving,' said Dr John Smith. 'Case in point,' and he nodded toward the figure of young Merchant who was just rising to his feet.

Dunberry started, eyes wide. 'I knocked you out!'

'Oh, my head might happen to be a trifle harder than you would think,' Merchant chuckled. His hand dropped to his side to thumb at something Dunberry couldn't see. Then there came a shimmer - and where Merchant had been there now stood that appalling woman, all nose and curls, just as Primm had termed her.

'You!'

The woman grinned and shook out her glorious mane. 'Just as I told you, Doctor,' she said to the man who was no longer dead, 'no one bothered to break the name Merchant into _mer_ and _chant_ , then translate from the French. But as for you, Mr Dunberry: Good night!'

Before he could react, she stepped in close and kissed him, full on the lips. Dunberry's whole body went rigid; a moment later he fell over, just like a tree.

'That _was_ the knock-out lipstick, I trust, River,' said the Doctor.

'Oh, don't worry, Sweetie. Of course it was!' she laughed.

'Hmph,' he snorted. 'Well, we did things your way, trying to root out whoever was targeting me by means of me having to endure the nightmare of going through the Chameleon Arch once again, but what did it gain us? All we caught in the trap was this greedy little shopkeeper!' He prodded the unconscious Dunberry with a toe of his boot.

'Are you forgetting about him?' said River, waving at Primm.

'Ah yes - the fellow who actually attacked me! No, I certainly haven't forgotten him!' He scowled down at the other man prostrate on the floor, then shook his head. 'But he's no great prize either. Hardly looks dangerous at all. And what sort of game could he have been up to?'

'As you yourself said, Sweetie, appearances can be deceiving.' She knelt and made a brief search of Primm. 'Aha!'

Again there was a shimmer as the second Perception Filter in the room shut down. Primm's figure altered, his ears and feet lengthening dramatically, his clothing turning blue, turning into a uniform.

A not unfamiliar uniform. The Doctor glowered. 'So that's it: he's a Lepus Warrior. Cheeky little rabbitty things. Clara and I defeated them in New York in 1923 when they took advantage of a stage magician chap - used his pull-a-rabbit-from-a-hat trick to give themselves a portal into this universe on a mission of conquest. Suppose he was wanting revenge on me.'

'He did speak of you as a meddler, yes,' put in River. 'And of your watch as his prize.'

The Doctor gave a small laugh. 'And well he might! I used that watch to hypnotize the lot of the Lepus Warriors so that they hopped back through the hat - which Clara then crushed, sealing them out. Wonder how this one got back…' He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area. 'No sign of anymore of 'em, at least.'

'Then we've stopped him,' said River firmly. 'And if we can't find a way to send him back home where he belongs, I'm sure I can come up with some out-of-the-way nook of Stormgate to tuck him away in. Unlike me, _he'll_ never get out.'

Again the Doctor snorted. 'Stopped him, yes - by dangling my watch under his nose, and me with it!'

She smiled and slipped her arms around him. 'Now, Sweetie, it worked, didn't it? And you're none the worst the wear for it - didn't even have to waste a regeneration.' She snuggled close.

'Now… now, now, now, now, River! You, you, you, you know I'm not fond of hugs this time around!' He attempted to squirm free.

'Don't give me that, Sweetie,' she laughed. 'I'm your wife!'

'Y-y-y-y-yes, I kn-know. But still…'

She puckered up, eyes twinkling. 'Give us a kiss then, Sweetie…'

His eyes bulged. 'Not… not _now!_ River, don't!' He tried to fend her off, tried valiantly.

But there was no putting off a determined River. Even as he exclaimed, 'But you're still wearing…!' she kissed him.

Oops. The Doctor went stiff as a board and toppled over like a tree, right onto the bed.

Oh right - the knock-out lipstick! River borrowed the Doctor's pocket handkerchief to scrub the stuff off her lips. Then she trussed up the bunny, lugged the shopkeeper out into the hall, and finally settled down at the Doctor's side upon the bed to wait for the lipstick to wear off.

 **FIN**


End file.
